Her Mother's Eyes
by LilaW08
Summary: Nessie is a 10 year old girl who wants answers. Her legal guardian Jacob Black tells her anything she wants about her mother who was killed in a car accident 2 years ago, but will a diary reveal her father and the answers she craves? An AU-human fic
1. Chapter 1

**~ I by no means even think of being blessed enough to own this world and its characters. ~**

_Author's note: For those of you who know me, no I'm not dead… (And come on, you can admit you thought it.) Everyone always helps you plan your whole life through college and then once you graduate and get a real job….well I think I am finally organized again to write. I do have some ideas for another Harry Potter fic, but I thought I would try this one out first._

_For those of you who don't know me, welcome to my world where I become Lila and let my what if's take form. Inside my head, I've been told, is a rather odd place for how I connect my thoughts. Feel free to let me know if something doesn't flow quite right._

_As always: read, review, but mostly: Enjoy!_

_~Lila~_

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

~2 Years Ago~

JPOV

It never crossed my mind to decline to fill that role as a best friend to her. I loved her enough to realize that that was what she needed me to be even though I had originally wanted more. But as the teenage hormones began to level, I realized that what I had originally thought was love really wasn't that at all. It was that craving for need and desire, and she was the first female body that I had felt close to.

I truly did love her; however, it was more of the love of a dear friend rather than that which grows out of lust and intimacy. She was able to show me the truth when I was the last person who wanted to listen. She was the one who opened my eyes to what was right in front of me. Leah was always meant to be mine. We were both so caught up in fighting against what we thought we wanted that we shoved aside what we really needed.

Leah was the one who understood my relationship with my best friend more than any other human on this planet. She never once forced an ultimatum or begged for understanding why I would answer a call in the middle of the night. It wasn't like _that_, and Leah was always the first to come to the defense when others would suggest otherwise.

So Leah never questioned that night when I answered my cell on that first ring in the middle of the night. She never questioned when I responded that I would be right there. She rolled over and went back to sleep as I slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed a t-shirt, and kissed her forehead before I left our room. She also didn't hesitate to come when I called her because this time I wasn't going to be able to handle this by myself.

Leah found me sitting on a bench in the cold white hallway with my head in my hands. I wasn't going to cry. I owed my best friend that much. I was the strong one. At least, that's what she always told me. I had to hold it together. No news was good news….right? Leah just sat down gently beside me, pulled my head to her breast, and slowly rubbed my back….that's all it took.

I hadn't cried since my mother died from the car accident that took her life and placed my father in a wheelchair. My sweet best friend always said that one day I was going to face the straw that would break the camel's back. This was no straw…this was more than a single soul could bear. What kind of sick bastard could ruin everything by drinking and driving? Once in a lifetime was more than enough, and here I sat facing a shared mistake of a couple of men years apart.

I hated the thought of soaking Leah's shirt in public, and I couldn't help but think as I cried that I hoped she wore a jacket. The thought shocked me enough that I was able to take a few deep, shaky breaths before I wiped my eyes and pulled myself up straight. Leah indeed had an old hoodie she pulled on to cover the flood of tears I had left on her. It wasn't enough to wipe it away from my mind, so I tilted my head back and closed my eyes…

Leah sat beside me in silence just holding my hand. I tried to focus on her thumb running back and forth to keep the dark thoughts that kept trying to barge into my mind. She didn't say a word. What could she say? There was nothing that would make this situation go away. I focused on the small circles her thumb was making on my hand as I prayed that somehow a miracle would come out of this.

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><p>LPOV<p>

I was blessed with an amazing, strong, loving, passionate husband. I never questioned Jacob's relationship with his best friend after that first conversation we had when we first got together. I didn't need to.

"_Do you love her, Jake?"_

"_I thought I did…but no, it's not like that…"_

"_What is it like, then?"_

"_It's like…Le, it's like I want to tell her about this beautiful sunset I saw, but I want to see that sunset with you…and I would definitely filter out the good parts. There are just some things a guy has to keep to himself about what he does with his girl…"_

It didn't stop friends from questioning, but they didn't see what I did. Jacob was like a brother to her. Yes, they could talk about nothing for hours, but it was the kind of things I expected them to talk about. She would badger him about what he was getting me for my birthday. He would retaliate with wanting to set her up on a date. She would give him some pointers on what stupid things he did to piss me off. He would freak out about a dress she was going to wear to a blind date she would agree to.

She was more of a sister-in-law to me than Jacob's biological sisters. So, that's why I never questioned the phone calls, the seeking advice, the tears, the laughter, the inside jokes…I loved her like family just as much as he did. It didn't matter what everyone else thought. So this phone call wasn't any different.

Our house was in a gated community that was a few miles out from town where she lived in an apartment complex. The news had recently been full of some local break-ins, and my first thought was just a bump in the night that was caused by the storm I could hear blowing up outside the window. She had always been afraid of the dark. With the added storm, I wasn't surprised that she would call.

Jacob would drive over, check the locks, watch some television till she fell back asleep, and then come home. It wouldn't be the first time, and I didn't think it would be the last. I would send Jacob to check on my own brother if he would call scared shitless, but little brothers don't admit to such things.

So when Jacob called me and asked me to come, I was surprised. I thought maybe she needed me to calm her down in some way that Jake couldn't this time…but then he told me where he was. He told me not to rush, and I knew it was because he wanted me safe. However, this was my Jacob that was hurting. I arrived at the hospital in the least amount of time that he wouldn't yell at me for throwing caution to the wind. The site of him sitting on that bench in that striking white hallway broke my heart. I did the only thing I could do as I pulled him to me as he fell apart in my arms.

Never before in my life had I seen him cry. He always had this big tough guy look that made me feel so protected. Now, I was his safe haven. I held on as he sobbed as his world crashed down around him. I knew he had nightmares about the accident that stole his mother away from him as a boy. This night was everything he dreaded, and I couldn't help but think those "not again, please not again" thoughts that race through your mind in times such as these.

When I was beginning to think that he would cry forever, he took a few shaky breaths and pulled away. I quickly covered my soaked shirt so that he wouldn't have to be reminded of being human. He was hurt enough, and I could spare his pride. I wanted to say something, anything! But, nothing came to mind. I just picked up his hand and started rubbing circles with my thumb. It always seemed to calm him.

He had his head tilted back with his eyes closed. His eyes were puffy and cheeks were red and wet. I just sat and continued waiting with him. There was a comfort in the silence. It was almost like as long as no one uttered a word, nothing wrong could touch us. I don't remember how long we sat there, but I will forever remember the moment that the social worker walked up to us. She wasn't a doctor; no someone thought it would be too cold to send a doctor.

She was the one who told us about the papers that were found in the glove compartment of the car. She was the one who told us the real reason that Jacob's cell phone was the one that was called that night. This woman whose name I can't even recall, she was the one who told us that my husband was now the legal guardian of an 8 year old girl. I followed Jacob to the floor as he fell to his knees and began to sob again. I held him as the woman sat with us throughout the night. I held him together as he mourned the loss of Bella, and prayed that the life of a little girl would be the miracle we were searching for.

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><p><em>So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? This chapter is mostly just for set up. Can't wait to see what you think. <em>

_~Lila~_


	2. Chapter 2

**~I in no way, shape, or form own this world or its characters. If it's questionable if I own it, then the reality is that I do not. ~**

_Author's note: I don't know about you, but when I'm looking for a story to read, I look at the number of chapters in relation to the number of reviews…I also think that it takes more than one chapter to obtain an opinion about a story. So I hope you stick with me and give this a shot._

_As always: Read, Review, and Enjoy!_

_~Lila~_

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

~Remaining in the Past: 2 years Ago~

JPOV

After being married to Leah for 6 years, I had come to accept the fact that we would never have biological children of our own. We had gone through test after test to see if the problem lied with my little guys or lack of them or if Leah…oh, how I wish it was my problem. I will never forget the nights where I just held her when her dream of a baby of our own was taken away. We had tried the whole adoption process, but the waiting game for a baby was just as cruel as the failed in vitro fertilization attempts.

Here I was in a reality I didn't want to face. My best friend was gone, but she had left me a priceless gift. The one thing I wanted in the entire world, and she had managed to give it to me buy this cruel twist of fate. A single piece of paper with some signatures and some legal mumbo jumbo and a sealed envelope was what this social worker was telling me was where I needed to direct my attention.

This woman was telling me that I was the one who needed to make some decisions. She was telling me how I must feel confused, hurt, and scared. She knew nothing of what I was feeling! But none of that mattered…I still needed to give permission. My word was needed. My Nessie needed me. I only hoped that I could be what Bella wanted me to be. She deserved that much.

LPOV

After surgery, Nessie was transferred to PICU or rather the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. I stood by Jake as the doctor described everything that we would see going into her room to make things "less scary." How describing a ventilator, chest tube, iv lines, a cast on her left leg, bruising and cuts covering just about everywhere, and then that little pink hospital gown and name band…just to mention a few things…would make it "less scary" I just don't know. The one at a time visitor policy had Jake and me splitting shifts with not only sitting at the bedside but meal runs, quick showers, and grabbing fresh clothes.

The doctors raised more questions as the nurses translated into our version of the human language from the medical mumbo jumbo. I watched my husband, who always had something to say, become very quiet as he listened and made decisions about this little girl that had been wrapped around his finger since she was born. Bella used to say that it was like an imprint with her daughter looking into Jacob's eyes for the first time…used to….those two words brought an altogether separate responsibility. That in itself was not something I would wish on anyone, and I daily avoided from reliving in my mind.

Every time I caught myself returning to that dark place, I found myself focusing on happier memories. My favorite was the time that Jake tried to buy Nessie a drum set for her 5th birthday expecting excitement and complete joy from the little girl. Oh no, not our Nessie. She was disappointed because she couldn't play her favorite classics like Clair de Lune on the drums. So, Jake returned the drum set, and he replaced it with a keyboard that had 10 different piano settings that Nessie loved more than the other junk settings that kids normally loved.

It was medical advice that had Jake setting up an iPod dock in the little hospital room playing Nessie's beloved classical music. The curious looks on the faces of the nursing staff reminded me of how I first felt when Nessie was going through what we thought was just a phase. Her mother seemed to be the only person who never thought her daughter's love for all things Debussy was more than normal; it was expected…too fresh…think of something else…

I glanced through the window that framed the view of my husband reading to a little girl…a view I had seen many times from when Nessie would stay with us which was quite common when your mother was a flight attendant. From where I stood, I could tell the major differences in our sweet girl. She was now breathing on her own, and the chest tube that was needed to re-inflate one of her lungs had been removed. The once black and blue bruises had now faded to that horrible yellow. A single IV line was left, but a feeding tube was in place for nutrients since she had been asleep for so long. We were just waiting for our little dreaming princess to awaken…

I sighed and pulled together enough strength to pull my gaze away from the window. There was no medical reason why she still slept. Her MRI scans were normal, so her brain was for all intents and purposes normal. Her vital signs were stable. It just appeared as if she was dreaming, and she just couldn't force herself awake. A trauma specialist theorized some medical hypothesis that sounded grand with its fancy words of sleep protecting her from dealing with the traumatic events.

I was tired of all this medical jargon shit. I wished that someone would just speak plainly and tell me the answers I craved. I wanted to know if Nessie's fingers would ever dance across the ivory and ebony keys she loved so much. I wanted to know if she would be able to tell me if she wanted the same old pink room in the house or if a new purple was needed for a fresh start. I wanted to hear her laugh at Jake's stupid jokes. I wanted to know if she wanted a new doll to keep her company in this strange place or her old teddy bear. I wanted to know a million different things…but what I wanted more than anything was for her to wake up from this dream world where she was hiding.

JPOV

I found it strange how the nursing staff referred to me as Nessie's dad. They would just walk in and say "Hello Dad, how's our girl doing?" or "Good morning Dad and Miss Nessie." I corrected them at first, because it seemed more than logical that this fair skinned freckle nosed kid was not the spawn of my Quileute genes. Seriously…look at me and at my wife…no way this kid is ours. Her name band doesn't even match my name. But did that stop them? No. No it did not. One nurse finally took pity on me, and I will never forget what she said.

"Any jackass can be a sperm donor, but it takes a real man to be a father."

So, that was how I found myself thinking of all the fatherly roles that I had filled for my Nessie. I was the one who scared away the monsters that her mother couldn't seem to vanquish. I told her the old legends for bedtime stories when princess tales just didn't appease her. I taught her to ride a bike. I paid for piano lessons. I was there in the front row for every recital. I knew her favorite color (pink), that she was allergic to penicillin, that she hated asparagus, and that she had asked Santa for a baby grand piano for the past 3 years.

I guess that was when I realized that I was more her father than that jackass ever would be. Bella swore me to secrecy and then swore Leah to never ask me for the information. I never did understand why she fell in love with that guy in the first place when he just up and left her…and here I was doing his job. Leah said I shouldn't let my bitterness and hatred keep me from enjoying life. I admit that I hadn't been this angry at him since I found out that Bella was expecting Nessie. However, this was beyond just anger. In this particular moment in time, I hated him.

I not only was making all the medical decisions for this little girl that I shouldn't have any right to at all, but I had to plan a funeral for her mother, my best friend, as well. It was like tearing out a piece of my soul, because she was for all intents and purposes my sister. I asked for a stack of preplanning funeral wishes packets to distribute because there was no way in hell I was doing this again. I didn't care how creepy the conversations from those talks made me appear to anyone.

I hated this guy because he should be the one taking care of all this shit: the plans for taking care of Bella, the plans for taking care of Nessie, the responsibility of waiting for the princess to wake up, preparing exactly what to say to the princess about her mother once she does wake …

Nessie was at the age where she asked questions. Why did her audience at her recitals include her mother, uncle, and aunt but no father? Why did she have to face the reality of losing a parent with no other parent to tell her she still had that piece of her left? When I lost my mother, my sisters and I wouldn't let our dad out of our site. It just didn't seem fair that this responsibly for security would fall to me.

Don't get me wrong, I always loved the fact that I could piss Bella off by buying Nessie ice cream before dinner. I loved being the one who picked out that teddy bear that she carried with her everywhere. It even went to school still as a stowaway in her backpack. I loved how I would search for colored rocks with her on the beach for hours. I loved doing all the fun stuff, but Bella was her mom. She was the parent. She did all the hard stuff.

This is why I found myself sitting in this hospital room listening to Clair de Lune for the billionth time praying that Nessie would awaken from her dream but also praying for the right words to say. I felt like I was stuck in a round robin wanting her to open her eyes as soon as she could; on the other hand, I found myself asking for more time.

My thoughts just spun round and round. One moment I would catch myself in a dark moment, then I would draw myself back to a good place, then I would be back. Leah teases me that this whole back and forth mood swing thing is what caused me to go grey. I don't know how any man going through anything similar could keep his hair at all, so if grey is all I had to go through then I would take it.

It didn't matter how many people I asked, no one had the real answer I was seeking. I asked medical staff, my father, I searched blogs on line. Leah suggested that I just go along with the whole country song bit of "close your eyes and let your heart lead the way." It didn't matter. Nothing really seemed to click. Then, the hospital chaplain showed up outside Nessie's door.

He took one look at her, one look at me, and then responded with: "She will wake when she is ready. Not a moment sooner. Not a moment later. You will know what to say when you need to say something. Not a moment sooner. Not a moment later."

Of course, at the moment that advice was given, I thought the old man was crazy. I thought some message was passed on that some well-meaning person had appointed this hospital employee to give me some taught phrase to calm me down. I never really thought he was right, but then you never think your parents are right in an argument until they prove it. It makes sense that someone knowledgeable about spiritual matters would know something on this topic even if our beliefs don't exactly match. Because whether I liked it or not, I was going to have to face this…and then I did.

LPOV

I watched Jacob go through hell as he watched Nessie sleep. The waiting game was becoming a separate identity. I never thought I would be able to mentally separate the accident from Nessie's hospitalization. But with the length of time we had spent in this place, it was like we had moved into some sort of twisted commune. For instance, I was sitting at a table in the waiting room paying bills. This may seem strange to you, but I wasn't the only parent that made sure the mortgage was paid on time so there was a home to go back to. I wasn't the only one who wanted to make sure there was a phone that worked in case I needed to call an ambulance for my sick kid. I needed hot water, electric, and cable…ok maybe not the cable, but what kid wants to lie on the couch recovering and not watch television?

It was funny how I fell into that parent role. I always loved Nessie, don't get me wrong. I had just always felt like I was going to be the doting aunt…and then Bella gave me the most precious gift. I had given up on ever giving out my mothering tendencies to any child, and now I had this little girl to care for even more than I had in the past. I never told Jake that I knew about the paper work that Bella had arranged in case of an emergency. She didn't want him to worry. She wanted to know that her daughter would be given love, security, and the ability to laugh again. Bella loved life, and she wanted the comfort of knowing her daughter would have the same thing.

I sealed my last bill to have that sudden gut dropping feeling that I would come to know as mother's intuition. I grabbed my bag and tore off down the hall towards Nessie's room. I had left Jacob reading some princess story to her. He was just too drained to recall all the details that Nessie loved about the old legends. After spending three months in a hospital waiting for something I just couldn't completely let myself give up…there it was. Jacob was on his knees beside her bed as she held his hand. They just stared at each other. I just watched. I was content to just watch.

And then that moment we had been dreading happened…but not exactly how we expected it…

An Outsider's Perspective

As a nurse in a pediatric unit, I have seen many sad things in my life along with the most rewarding. It's one of those jobs where you just have to weigh the two against each other. If the pros outweigh the cons, you keep right on going. For most nurses, this is the case. At the most, you might transfer to a different unit. If all you see is bad, then, honey, you better seriously reevaluate your career choice. You always have those patients that stay stuck in your mind. And this moment will be forever one of them.

Nurses have the tendency of granting nick names to patients and family of patients as an easy referral without breaking any privacy laws…ok so it's not all about the legal aspect, but a nick name we tend to remember better. Jacob Black was known simply as "the hot dad." His wife, Leah, was known as "model mommy." Yeah, we all knew the sad background story. But this sweet little girl still had family that loved her.

I watched as that giant man held that tiny little girl's hand and just looked into her eyes. His wife ran past me and stopped at the doorway. She brought her hand up to her mouth to cover a gasp as silent tears started to run down her cheeks. Whether it was from joy, fear, or both I don't think she even knew. Then that particular moment just…it just was…

"Uncle Jake?" Nessie's whisper was hoarse from lack of use, the old vent, and the feeding tube.

"Yeah, Princess, I'm right here." Jake's voice was rough from trying to keep from crying.

"Mommy had to go to heaven…" Nessie just stated. Just like that. It was like she had known and all this time she was just waiting to understand it. Just like that. No question. No hesitation. It was like she was breaking the news to him like ripping off a band aide.

"Yeah, I know baby girl." Jacob kept hold of her hand and used his free hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

"She made me promise to help Aunt Leah to take care of you." This little hand reached up and wiped away a single tear.

"I would love that." Jacob just stared right back at her.

After everything I have seen with my job, I will never forget that moment. I guess it is true what they say. If you just let the moment come to you, you will know what to say. Not a moment sooner. Not a moment later.

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><p><em>So…a little longer than I expected…3,000 words just about minus some of the author's note….guess I got a little carried away but I wanted to finish the set up to get on with the core of this little brain wave. So thoughts on the chapter? The length of the chapter? Yes? No? Maybe so? ~Lila<em>


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